


Making Up For Lost Time

by orphan_account



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Family Secrets, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The certificate in his hand declared that Phil Coulson was his older half-brother. JARVIS declared the authenticity with a scan and that's when Tony went to pour a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Up For Lost Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/3266.html?thread=896450#t896450) on November 28, 2011.  
> Revised from its original posting on the kink meme.

Tony was going through a box of Howard's belongings that he found in the attic of the Manhattan residence when he saw the paper. His eyes widened and the thin official paper trembles convulsively. There was a moment's hesitation, a strained silence heavy in the air, before the billionaire laughed too loudly for the occasion. Tony waved away JARVIS' questioning tone and looked at the paper with its notarized seal of approval.

The certificate in his hand declared that Phil Coulson was his older half-brother. Tony first thought it an elaborate joke, far beyond what he'd ever give the agent credit for but there are photographs to go along with the paper, faded with time. JARVIS declared their authenticity with a simple scan and Tony went to pour a drink.

A day later, Tony stalked into Coulson's office and took a seat in the chair next to his desk. The agent put down his pen and lifted his head to stare at the genius. Tony slapped the certificate on his desk.

“Did you know about this?” Coulson's eyes flicked briefly to the paper and slowly lifted the photograph.

“I was made aware of your existence when Howard stopped visiting my mother. I was two months shy of six.” His fingers tightened on the picture. Tony had peered at it when he first saw it but couldn't see the suited secret agent in the face of the five year old boy holding an ice cream cone in his right hand and Howard's larger hand in his left.

“You didn't say anything? I was dying when you met me? Oh, I see how it is.” Tony's voice was heavily tinged with sarcasm as he warmed up to his rant. “Of course you're not going to admit to knowing, let alone being related to, a drunkard, a selfish genius who singlehandedly tried to run his company into the ground. You wouldn't dare-”

“I couldn't say anything.” Phil interrupted, voice soft. “You had your life to live, I had mine. It was your father who made the distinction clear when he told my mother never to bother him again.”

Tony winced sympathetically. “At least he was an asshole all around. There's goes my idea about you being the favored son.” Phil snorted indelicately.

“Hardly. I wasn't the genius who would follow in his footsteps.” Tony put a hand on the desk in the space between them.

“No, you have the harder job of keeping all of us idiots in line.” He flashed a quickfire grin as he stood. “Now you don't have a reason to miss my parties! Excellent, I'm throwing one this weekend.” Tony looked down at the seated man. “We'll keep this on the down low because seriously, being related to you would ruin my carefully cultivated image. Just imagine.” He shuddered and waltzed out. He missed the fact that Phil propped the small photograph against his coffee mug before returning to his paperwork.

Tony found Phil leaning against the wall on the following Friday night, party in full swing. They were a more low-key affair thanks to his older brother demanding security clearance for all attendees once Tony officially signed the paperwork making Iron Man part of the Avengers team, but Tony found he didn't much miss the wild nights of his youth.

The younger man slung an arm over Phil's shoulders, glass dangling from one hand. “Enjoying yourself, brother?” He hissed the last word but Tony's grin was easy, no bite behind the reminder of the discovery. The agent looked at him, still dressed in his work suit; the only concession was the lack of a tie. “Drink up, the work week's over!” He pushed his mostly-full glass into Phil's hand.

“I think one alcoholic in the family is enough at a time.” The reply was curt and Tony grew quietly serious.

“Oh, I didn't know. So you want some soda water with lime? Pepper likes that trick, but don't tell her that I know her secret.” Phil's smile was small but honest and Tony went to harass the bartender in the corner. He returned to Phil's side, dropped off the drink and then went to see how Steve was enjoying a 21st-century party. By his wide smile, it looked like it was good.

It was that time of day between late morning and afternoon when Tony entered the kitchen, extremely hungover and practically crawling to the coffeepot. There was a post-it note on the silver machine, writing scrawled across the yellow slip. Tony squinted at the tidy letters, head pounding.

  
_There's a plate of food in the warming drawer. Advil is in the cabinet to the right of the stove._   


Tony didn't even know they had a warming drawer in the Avengers kitchen, or that there was an apparently communal bottle of medication in the cabinet. He dry-swallowed some pills and opened the larger drawers, trying to figure out which holds the food. Tony hit the jackpot on the fourth try and pulled out the plate of eggs, diced potatoes with green peppers and sausage links. He sat at the table with the plate and a large cup of coffee, head propped on a hand as he thinks.

Tony figured he could get used to having an older half-brother. (It's like having a Pepper, but he'll take your teasing much better.) And the eggs were surprisingly good, unlike his assistant's many attempts over the years.

A month passed and Tony had been watching his mouthy teammate interact with Phil with growing amusement. “So, you and Owleyes have a thing? How's that working out, what with him being gone three weeks out of the month for missions?” Tony questioned in the middle of a one-on-one debriefing, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“Are you and the good Captain ever going to stop dancing around each other? I understand he's a bit nervous being from the 1940s but what's your excuse?” Phil fired back.

“I hear the betting pool has hit four digits.” Tony grinned. He loved the S.H.I.E.L.D. gossip mill.

“If you happened to man up and put some of those moves the tabloids love to report about on Mr. Rogers,” Coulson's tone was as dry as ever but his eyes were smiling, Tony was certain. “I'd be willing to split the earnings. Find it in you to do so before Christmas.”

Tony put a hand to his chest, widening his eyes in a poor semblance of being shocked. “Agent Coulson, I simply cannot believe you are encouraging the fraternization of teammates.”

“It's either you make the first move or I'll let Natasha make good on her idea to get you two together.” Phil gave him a direct look and Tony didn't even want to ask what the very scary woman's plan consisted of.

Tony conceded that round to Phil and immediately launched back into retelling how yesterday's mission had gone. His half-brother smirked in victory.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Tony said, wrapping the tape around his wrists a week later. “I'm not going to go easy on you, just so you understand.” He and his half-brother had finally scheduled their sparring match during the older man's lunch break.

Phil snorted, hanging his suit jacket on a locker's open door. “I highly doubt you can even seriously wound me. S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, remember?” He removed his gun and strips off his pants, pulling on a pair of sweatpants as Tony reminded him that he's been boxing for years.

“Yes, you'd be a lot better if you did it with any regularity.” Phil commented wryly, following Tony out of the locker room and ducking beneath the ropes.

Tony took a practice swing and Phil blocked it with ease. A few more tries, then they're actually sparring. Tony has more upper arm muscles than Phil clearly expected to find but it was hard to land a punch on a guy who's devilishly quick. The session ended with both of them out of breath, sweaty shirts stuck to their skin. Tony's ribs ache but he knew the kick he got in to Phil's thigh will leave him limping for at least a day.

The hair ruffling his half-brother gave him when he had Tony in a headlock was completely uncalled for, though. Tony's willing to forgive it because he knows Phil's just jealous since he has a receding hairline.

JARVIS informed Tony that Phil has taken a hit during their team mission seven weeks later. They're in the middle of yet another firefight, bullets pinging off the Iron Man suit and Cap's vibranium shield while the three mortals of the Avengers team return fire.

Tony twisted his head to watch his half-brother fall back as JARVIS helpfully calculated the trajectory and its shooter's position.

He wasn't sure if his repulsor blast or Clint's arrow hits the man first but he did know he is the first to reach the older man, since Clint was still climbing over the ruins of a car. Tony slid his faceplate up.

“Phil? Phil!” Tony shook his shoulder with one hand, pressing the other gauntlet against the dark red stain quickly spreading on his white shirt. “Open your eyes, dammit!”

Clint came to a sudden stop on the other side of the agent, falling to his knees. “Tony, I got this. He'll be okay, it looks like it went through.” Clint's eyes were wider than normal but his voice was unexpectedly calm, given the fact that Tony knew the two had all but moved in together. Tony wondered how much training that took and where he could get some. Tony was aware that when Steve had gone missing for three days last week without a word he'd nearly terrorized all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s R&D department for their clearly subpar tracking device.

“Why wasn't he wearing Kevlar?” Tony demanded, letting Clint take over to put pressure on the front of the wound.

The marksman looked up, meeting Tony's worried gaze. “Since when do you care?”

The words came bursting out of the genius. “He's my half-brother, asshole!” Clint didn't have a response as Steve squawked unintelligibly over the earbud comm. Tony belatedly remembered that everyone on the team could hear their conversation.

“You make everything so dramatic,” Phil groaned, squeezing Clint's hand. “Christ, Tony. I know you're the younger one but I think you take it to a new level. I'm not dying so get back to your job of taking those bastards out. Clint can help me to medical.” The agent levered himself off the ground with a soft groan, Clint's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Tony turned at JARVIS' warning, blasted the three oncoming foot soldiers and then went to help Clint carry his brother.


End file.
